


Precedent

by rallamajoop



Series: Chain of Command series [2]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Gen, war-era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rallamajoop/pseuds/rallamajoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his early days in the Holy Order Ky challenges a knight by the name of Sol to a match, and history of a kind is made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precedent

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a follow up to Chain of Command, but should stand more or less as well with or without context.

For a man with his reputation for violence, Sol did not take to Ky's request with much enthusiasm.

"Count me out." Sol glared darkly off in another direction. "Beating up kids isn't my idea of a good time."

Even if Sol was as superior in abilities as he believed, the tone of his dismissal made Ky prickle. "I don't have any intention of letting myself be beaten that easily. You may have more experience, but I'm sure I have more tricks of my own than you realise."

Sol seemed to find this funnier than Ky thought was fair. "Think you can take me on, kid?"

"It's not a matter of who wins or loses, is it? All I'm asking for is a training session," said Ky evenly. "Besides, I want to see it for myself – this power of yours I've heard so much about."

"How much are you expecting to see in a sparring match?" Sol snorted.

"I can make it an order if that's what it'll take," Ky suggested, enjoying the authority to make that offer more than he would have expected.

"Aren't you misusing this captain thing a bit?" said Sol irritably.

"I'm hardly going to make much of a captain if I don't know what my own men are capable of," Ky said reasonably, semi-consciously straightening his shoulders. "If one of them is reputed to be able to clear a battlefield single-handedly, wouldn't it be unprofessional of me not to take an interest in him?"

Sol rolled his eyes. "Do you listen to yourself?" But before Ky could ask him what he meant, he added, "Gonna be no gettin' outta this, huh?"

"I'm sure you can't claim a more pressing engagement," said Ky. "We can use the training arena on this side of Headquarters – no-one else should be there at this time of day."

He turned to lead the way, and after only a few paces was rewarded by the sound of Sol's heavier footsteps following along behind him.

The training arena was five minutes walk away through the old hallways of complex, and was indeed empty and deserted – even the equipment and mats that would be in use in a general training session had been stacked to the side or stored away.

"Here?" asked Sol, taking in the room with casual disinterest.

"You haven't seen the training arena before?"

"Nah. Dunno what the point would be." Sol shrugged, and appeared to come to the end of what little interest he'd had in looking around. "Let's get this over with already."

Like all the oldest parts of the complex it had been built out of stone, but unlike the others, the floor here was covered by a layer of loose sand to cushion falls that might otherwise lead to injuries. It was not an arena in the truest sense, but it did boast raised seating going some way back on one of the walls and a surrounding balcony high above. Demonstration matches were held here from time to time. None Sol had seen or taken part in though, apparently.

Ky reached the centre of the room, stopped a few paces ahead and drew his sword. He would only insult Sol by suggesting they use training weapons for this. "Ready?"

Sol hefted his own weapon, and reached up to crack his neck with a noise that just about echoed in the enclosed space. "Don't come crying to me if you get hurt, little boy." It was a fairly textbook taunt even if he meant it, and it did little to dampen the quick thrill of anticipation running through the young captain.

How best to approach this, Ky wondered. Fighting another human was a very different prospect to fighting a Gear. His best hope was that Sol would be far enough out of practice at this mode of combat that it could be turned it to his disadvantage.

Deciding it best to start simple until he'd had the chance to feel out his opponent, Ky opened with a simple wide sweep of his sword, which Sol blocked easily by raising his own weapon. The blades glanced off one another with a dull clang. Adjusting his grip, Ky brought his next strike down from above, forcing Sol to block up high, but at the last moment he turned the blow into a feint and pivoted to swipe down at his opponent's feet. But Sol moved faster than Ky had thought possible, swinging that giant blade back down again so that it swept Ky's sword aside on impact. Sol turned on the end of the movement and he launched a savage kick which hit Ky in the side and sent him sprawling.

It happened so fast Ky took a moment to get his wits back. He'd never expected to be a match for Sol in power or strength, but he'd counted on having at least some speed advantage. Yet Sol could clearly swing that weapon as though it had only a fraction of its weight.

"Geez, where are you aiming?" Sol grumbled, looking bored. "You aren't gonna win taking strips off my uniform."

"Haven't you ever fought a match for practice?" Ky countered, startled by the tone of his own voice. "The objective is not to injure your opponent!"

"How do you decide the winner?" Sol scoffed. "Who's pants hold out longest? Fight like you mean it, you're putting me to sleep."

The thought shot through Ky's head that the insolence of this man was beyond all humour. "Surely you have some concept of fighting to disable…!"

"Scared you're gonna hurt me, kid?" Sol let out a short laugh. "Fuck, this is gonna get old fast. Come at me with anything ya got, I'll take it."

"You may be that confident, but it isn't so simple for me," Ky argued back. "If I have to worry whether I could go too far I won't be able to concentrate."

"This is why I hate babysitting," Sol complained.

Ky drew himself back to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. "On guard."

A spark leapt from one of his fingers to the blade of his sword, drawing Sol's eye. Half the older man's mouth crept upwards in a smirk.

Ky raised his free hand and drew it down sharply to release a low powered variant of his lighting projectiles. Surprise flickered over Sol's face for just an instant before the bolt was countered in a small blast of flame not far from its target. But Ky had been expecting no less; stories he'd heard of the former bounty hunter had referred with awe to his command of fire magic – far more common a specialisation than Ky's own lightning, if no less powerful for it. Before the sparks of his attack had cleared he was already running in behind it, aiming another wide swing. Electricity crackled along his sword, and even as Sol blocked the blow it leapt from the blade in a bright arc and struck him on the arm. The sight of Sol flinching away was uncomfortably rewarding.

For that moment, the advantage was his, and Ky slashed out again hurriedly before the opportunity could be lost. However, Sol had his balance back before he'd more than begun the movement, and simply jumped backward out of the way.

"That all ya got?" he taunted.

"Not even close," Ky replied without even thinking. Quickly, he tried to summon another charge before the distance between them closed again. Sol moved faster, dodging in low and sweeping out a leg to knock his opponent's feet out from under him. Ky jumped to avoid it just in time, but while still in mid air he was forced to shield his face from a painful blast of heat. What sort of attack it had been he had no time to work out, it registered no more clearly to him than as tongues of flame and air so hot it might have come straight from the centre of a furnace, but at that range it knocked the breath out of him. Ky landed without any dignity at all, staggered and swung at what he could make of Sol through the smoke – pure reactionary defence when he could barely even see. It was so rushed that he may even have forgotten his prior conviction about not aiming to injure, but his weapon encountered nothing but empty air. Instinct just barely made him raise his sword again in time to block before Sol's weapon came flying at him out of the haze. The heavy blow nearly wrenched his sword right out of his hand, and before he had any chance to get his grip back, he'd taken a punch to the stomach. Sol's next blow landed on his wrist and knocked the sword from his grasp completely.

When Ky stopped seeing stars, he found himself sitting on the training room floor with a heavy sword pointed at his neck. Sol looked more bored than victorious.

It was a mistake to focus on Sol's weapon alone, Ky noted uselessly as the pain in his stomach faded. Although he swung it with ridiculous ease, he treated it like no more than the latest addition to an established arsenal of feet and fists. Sol was quite prepared to use any convenient appendage as a weapon.

"Che, finished already?"

Although not much practiced at it through his last couple of years of training, Ky was not normally a bad loser. But the tone of Sol's voice sounded too much like a challenge, and even if the weapon he was holding might be used a bit like a sword, it wasn't designed to damage with a simple forward thrust. The way it was being pointed at him was more symbolic of his loss than it was any real threat.

Ky reached up suddenly, grabbed Sol by the wrist just above the sword hilt, and dealt out an electric charge strong enough to be acutely felt even through the fabric of his gloves. While Sol swore at him and wrenched his arm away, Ky rolled out of the way, dived for his fallen sword and leapt back to his feet.

He didn't stop to think whether what he'd done was unsportsmanlike. There was only one attack in his arsenal with any hope of getting past Sol's defence, and it was one he'd invented only by accident a week previously. It would be a gamble, but he had nothing to lose by trying. Last time he'd done this he'd been charging into the midst of a real battle, and it had come to him naturally. This time he had to concentrate to summon enough power in the few seconds he'd bought himself to create those orbs of lightning again.

When Ky opened his eyes again after a moment's focus, it was working – the light surrounding him was bright enough that even he was nearly blinded by it. Surely even Sol couldn't shrug this off. He took his first step forward, meaning to gather some speed. But before he could take another, a hand snaked in through his guard and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and the last thing he knew was that Sol's head was coming towards his very quickly.

This time, when Ky came back to himself he was flat on his back on the floor, and his head was still throbbing. Sense memory replay of Sol's forehead crashing into his own danced through his head with a viciousness that was not at all stifled by the sort of short term memory loss that was supposed to come out of these incidents. The next thing he saw was Sol himself standing over him, grinding a foot into the loose edge of his coat, which had been smouldering slightly.

Ky realised with a grimace that he had no basis to complain. He'd been given the opportunity to retire gracefully, and he'd passed it up. His assessment of Sol as someone who'd use any part of his body as a weapon seemed ironically insufficient now. He might not have expected to be a match for Sol, but he hadn't expected to lose quite this badly either. It was a humbling experience.

He groaned, tried to lift his head and then decided against doing that again just yet.

"Properly finished this time?" said Sol. Ky might have laughed at himself if he'd been up to it.

"No wonder you have such a reputation if you fight like that," he said. It was a statement open to several interpretations, and Ky couldn't honestly claim he hadn't meant it to be.

"Not so hurt after all, huh?" muttered Sol, which Ky found to be nearly as ambiguous. "What's it take to shut you up?"

"I'm sure I don't want to find out," Ky replied, with feeling. It wasn't like him to feel the need to be this competitive, he'd had enough new experiences for one day.

"Then you can get up on your own. If you got a concussion, I'm not carrying you to the medics."

Still grimacing with every other movement, Ky managed to sit up, then under Sol's continuing scrutiny, he struggled his way to his feet. His head still throbbed with every movement he made, but his vision had cleared quickly and that much boded well. Within a few paces he had a wall to lean against, which was a much greater relief as they made their way out of the arena. If Sol wasn't going to give him any help, at least he didn't seem inclined to abandon him with a head injury either.

"It was a good match," Ky said at last, feeling slightly clearer.

"What else do ya do for fun?"

"I meant it," said Ky seriously. "It isn't all about victory. If I never fight anyone I can't defeat, I'll never improve. I'm sure there's a lot I could learn from you."

"Maybe I did give you a concussion," Sol said skeptically, guessing where Ky was going with this far too easily.

"I'll be quite alright," Ky replied, summoning a faint smile. "You aren't that hard headed."

"If I'd known you were gonna want a rematch, I'd'a hit you harder the first time."

"Surely the occasional match wouldn't be such a trial for you?"

Sol gave a noncommittal grunt. "How many times am I gonna have to beat you up before it gets old?"

"Well, the faster you can help me catch up with you, the fewer it will need to be."

"A kid like you?" Sol scoffed. "You're at least a hundred years behind."

As casual taunts went, that still seemed rather unimaginative to Ky. "In that case, you have a lot of challenges to look forward to."

Sol muttered something that sounded vulgar under his breath.

Despite losing so miserably, Ky found himself strangely encouraged by the outcome of the battle. After getting promoted as young as his age, it would be far too easy to become complacent about his own skills. The challenge of catching up to someone like Sol could be good for him. Surely by the time he could match Sol in battle, he'd have earned the other man's respect.


End file.
